From the Start
by Moviefanatic2.0
Summary: A look at Derek and Karen throughout the entire first season of Smash. Going back through old episodes, there are quite a lot of moments the two of them shared, and they shouldn't go unnoticed. Maybe Derek didn't only realize his feelings for Karen in the season finale; maybe they've been there from the start.
1. The Pilot: Derek

**Hello there! Me here! So, as I have previously discussed in several chapters of my other Smash story, I have been writing a new fic! Basically, I wanted to take a look at Derek and Karen's relationship throughout the whole series –as it was really only in the last several episodes that I started, like, squealing whenever they interacted- and I thought I'd make it into a fic! **

**So basically, I'm going to take each episode, pick out all the K/D moments, then write two chapters for each installment; one from Derek's point of view and one from Karen's. I think it should work out most of the time; a few episodes actually have no Derek/Karen interaction of any kind, so hopefully I'll fill those with some thoughts and scenes that –while not made up- aren't such outright interactions between the two. So they may not always line up perfectly, but whatever! **

**So here's chapter one, sorry for the long intro. With all the wonderful Derek/Karen-ness of the pilot, I think it's a good start.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any portion of Smash.**

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The Pilot:

Derek Wills was bored. Bored beyond belief. If there was a stage of slight anger and utter antipathy that was beyond boredom, he was beyond that. For the life of him, he could not fathom what might drive these women the inflict their presence on him and the other members of this audition, and he rubbed his palms into his eyes as yet another one entered. Sickeningly pink dress, smile stiff and plastered, Derek passed along her resume without a seconds glance. Even her song choice was such a nauseatingly and naïve Marilyn that he actually let out the faintest of groans. This was getting nowhere.

He liked Marilyn; he liked who she was, he liked what she represented, and he liked what Houston and Levitt where slowly molding her into for their own intents and purposes. He liked the scenes, -and though he would never admit it to Tom's face- he liked the songs, he _loved_ the direction, but what he didn't like has the cute, silly, dumb-blonde Marilyn that ever single God damn woman at this audition wanted to play. That was not Marilyn, and if they didn't know that, then why waste his time indeed.

"Boo boo, be doo, ooh!" Oh God, enough! Derek sighed, groaning inwardly and raised a hand in the air. Attempting not to roll his eyes, he watched as the young woman's gaze grew wide and frightened, and he shook his head as the music fell away.

"Yeah, thank you!" He said, and he heard her sharp intake of breath from across the room. He looked back down at the papers strewn in front of him. "It- It's great, thanks, um . . ." He said distractedly, not looking at her, and as an afterthought, flipped a piece of paper to reveal her name. "Lisa . . ."

Lisa's face fell into a tight grimace, her eye brimming with tears, but he did not grace her with a glance as she grabbed her music and made to exit. Phone in hand, he was typing away before she left the room. A heavy silence hung over the company, as it had after each rejection that only Derek seemed capable of executing and stomaching. However, as he had each time previously, he ignored the sidelong glances he was sure were being sent his way, and instead busied himself in his work.

Of course, he was first to break the tension. "What about Scarlett Johansson," Derek interjected without looking up. "Why isn't she on the list?" Why wasn't she on the list? Where were the stars, where were the big names, the ones that could stand out in lights and draw people in from miles out? Where were the seat fillers and the show makers, and –coincidentally- the stars he wanted to spend his _personal _time with? It was not his fault those two things most always went hand in hand. But neither of these necessities were fulfilled if the stars weren't on the list.

"We're talking to her people," The assistant offered instantly, and Derek gave a jerky nod as Tom rolled his eyes. The director did not raise his gaze.

"Kristen Chenoweth?" Eileen proposed, rather loudly and close to his ear, and Derek sat up slowly and graced her with his attention.

"I discovered her," He added patronizingly, and shifted back to his phone. "This isn't her part-"

"Maybe we could, maybe," Tom interjected passionately, and Derek rolled his eyes. Ever theatrical, Tom's sense of friendship seemed to outweigh any suggestions they were making. "Offer it to someone who we know, who is great! Even thought she's not famous." Derek looked up at the writer slowly, blinking several times as Tom fixed him with a stare venturing towards intimidating, and Derek sighed again.

So there really was no point in this long, monotonous process; Ivy the blonde from the 'National Pastime' audition, Ivy the consummate pigeonholed Broadway want-to-be, Ivy the _trooper _would get the part. In the end, as he had learned from experience, there would be no arguing with Tom. And with his petty friendship on the line, Ivy had the easiest in on a Broadway production that she possibly could have. Tom wouldn't say no, and with Julia to back him, there would be no stopping their decision. The only real question now was why put them through this process if it was to yield no results? Why bother, if it was already _Ivy's _part? Perhaps, if anything, he could get himself laid before the day was out.

Ivy was respectable, he supposed. She had truly done great work with him during the audition, taking direction beautifully and embodying what he needed her too, but he could see past her façade through it's many growing fissures. Beneath her outer shell, she was breaking, or at least was already broken. A mixture of low self-esteem met with high expectation shattered by low outcomes, and her years in the ensemble had done nothing to shape and mold her as she should have let them.

A consummate perfectionist, she worked with much more resolve then entirely necessary as if to fill the holes that she could feel in her performance. If anything, at least she was strong enough to see those cracks, but filling them with putty wasn't going to last for more then five minutes. In all honesty, she worked too hard, and if she was going to be a star, she needed that action to become second nature. She needed the confidence if she was going to expose herself as a lead needed to do.

"Without a Marilyn, you've got nothing," Derek finished, not having paid attention to his previous words, and Tom flopped back into his chair, looking dejected. Another reason not to hire a friend; if Tom could even take an _indirect_ crack at Ivy made by Derek behind her back, there was no way he would survive rehearsal. Letting out a final sigh, Derek settled back into his chair and pulled out his phone. He wondered if any of them would object to his leaving; their second girl had been marginally good looking –though her simpered smiles had made him visibly cringe- but maybe he could catch her on her way out-

"Ivy's gonna be a minute," Another assistant walked in, pulling Derek's attention from his thoughts, and he sighed. Even if Ivy was already in line to receive the role, the least she could do was show up on time and prepared. Derek looked back at his notes. "So Karen Cartwright is next."

There were murmurs of accent from around him, but Derek did not respond, attention instead focused on his desk. The younger man turned around, pushing open the door and striding out, and there was a shuffling of feet and a click of heels as a figure entered. Derek looked up momentarily, eyes barely glancing at the young woman, but almost involuntarily his gaze jumped back to her for a double take.

"Hi," She said politely, her voice young and sweet and Derek crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. Now _this_ is what he'd been looking for.

"Hello Karen," He almost simpered as she strolled across the room, handing her music to the pianist and smiling back at the table. Derek's eyes followed her every move, and he could hear Tom let out an exasperated sigh. "How refreshing."

And indeed she was; outfit complete with flats, jeans and a simple blouse, she shed her sports jacket and laid it next to her bag as she deposited them next to the piano. Dark hair falling loosely to her shoulders, framing her face in a more then flattering fashion, she sent them a confused smile as she moved to her mark. After today, she was indeed a sight for sore eyes, her face alive with excitement and her figure seeming to glow in the faint light of the room. She was hot, he would grant her that, her face and body were breathtaking, but her immediate innocence also struck him, plucking at his consciousness. She looked so terribly enraptured, her eyes wide as she took in the table of viewers, and Derek let a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

"You're the only girl we've seen today who didn't come as Marilyn," Derek responded to her uncertain glance, almost as a kind of cover, and she let out a nervous giggle as she crossed to stand in the center of the room. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze wondering around the room and filled with a kind of wonder. "What do you have for us?" Derek found himself asking, _gently_ of all things, and a faint smirk played across his lips as she looked to the pianist.

And a perfect song choice, Derek let himself wear a faint smile. Her looks and attitude hadn't disappointed; she was intelligent, or at least she knew Marilyn, and she understood the Marilyn that they wanted and no one else had shown them. And bloody hell, she could _sing_, and every second of it was marvelous. _Now and then, I get insecure,_ she breathed_, from all the fame. I'm so ashamed._ And Derek nodded slowly as he watched her eyes glaze over.

Her gaze distant and vague, the smile that played across her features was something to be reckoned with, and her eyes shone bright with innocence. Unconsciously, she fixed her gaze on Derek, her eyes looking past him at something only she could see, but nonetheless it filled him with a strange kind of warmth. Letting out the faintest of chuckles, her shared a quick glance with Eileen, the older woman returning his gaze with a smile and turning her attention back to the girl. Slowly, Karen raised a hand above her head, eyes falling closed, and Derek tilted his head to one side as her voice reached a crescendo. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tom sitting forward ever so slightly in his seat, and Julia nodding her head as if to herself.

And faintly, the piano dropped away, several last notes were uttered, and her final word hung in the air, echoing in the stunned silence. Slowly, a look was shared between the other three members of the table, Julia openly wearing a beaming smile, but Derek's gaze did not move from Karen as her nervous grin returned.

Bouncing ever so slightly, she thanked them in a soft, high pitched voice and left quickly, gathering her things and nearly sprinting for the door. And the Dark Lord found himself smiling after her, watching as the door clicked closed behind her, and pulled her resume towards him. Fishing out a pen and paper, he scribbled the number labeled in the far corner, folding the paper gently once finished and stuffing it into his pants pocket as the next girl entered.

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"I didn't think you'd make it."

And indeed, he had thought she wouldn't come. In her skinny jeans and baggy sweatshirt, she was also not exactly what he had expected, but the sight of her in his apartment still made a faint smirk pull as his features. She shed her bag and jacket, handing them over uncertainly as Derek proffered, and he sat them on the floor as he took her in. The second time over, she was even more gorgeous; in the dim light of his apartment her face practically glowed, eyes shining with that same nervous energy as before, but she stood with more confidence and strength then she had displayed in the audition room. _Even better_, he smiled to himself as she fumbled with her words.

"Oh yeah I'm sorry," Immediately apologizing, covering herself his a faint smile. "I just got the text twenty minutes ago, so . . ." Ah, Derek smirked inwardly, now there was something interesting. A misunderstanding? Surely she wouldn't be _that_ naïve, but perhaps the two of them were not expecting the same outcome for the night ahead. No matter.

"Ok," He stated in response, goading her subtly, and immediately took off towards the kitchen at a quick pace. The click of heels on wood alerted him to her following, but he didn't turn around. "The place is a mess, sorry." He continued vaguely, as if attempting to make small talk, and he heard a faint chuckle from her figure as she spoke.

"Oh no, it's beautiful," She said, and he could picture her glancing around with wide-eyed admiration as he stomped into the kitchen. Barely acknowledging her comment, he crossed the space to a cabinet on the opposite side.

"My schedule's turned into a bit of a nightmare," He continued, still not looking at her, yet assessing as he heard her stop to lean against the counter. Apparently, she was listening rather avidly to his words, though Derek was only half aware of what he was actually saying. With a clink of glass against wood, he pulled a cup from the cabinet and rounded on the fridge.

"Lionsgate wanted to get me on a plane at eight o'clock in the morning, then I have to turn around and get myself back here for the callbacks on Friday," As he pulled open the fridge, he drew out the ice and studied her from behind, watching as she took in the rest of his establishment before turning back to him. She smiled a rather flustered smile.

"Well, I really appreciate you taking the time," Taking the time? He simpered, his smirk broadening, and smiled at her with slight wonder as he returned to the counter. It was becoming increasingly obvious that they weren't exactly on the same page.

"Look, obviously we're very serious about you for this," He interjected into the conversation, taking her by surprise as he mouth fell open into a faint 'O' shape. His eyes lingered as he twisted the cap of the scotch and poured. "I thought it was terrific the way you came in without doing her," Compliment her, make her feel confident, put her at ease. He grinned as she let out a nervous laugh of thank. "It's not going to get you past the next round, but I thought it was hilarious,"

But don't grant her too much comfort, not too confident, enough to make her mouth fall open in protest as he handed her the drink. Thought the drink might have partially cause it, the look of uncertainty on her face made it plainly clear that hilarity was not at all what she had intended with her audition. Another accidental accomplishment on her part. Yet he kept the conversation moving, not giving her a chance to think as he watched her sniff the beverage slightly.

"Your resume's light," He pushed the piece of paper across the counter towards her and strolled into the living room before she could form her response. As he passed her, his eyes lit up in understanding.

"Oh it's the resume," She said through a laugh, and he heard her follow him across the room to the windows. He smiled ever so slightly to himself, back still turned. She was becoming more and more innocent by the second, and he relished it. An easy catch. "People kept saying light, I didn't know what light meant."

He stopped walking and turned to her, smiling, watching as she let out a nervous laugh. "It means you're a bit green," Perhaps to put her more at ease, perhaps because he wanted some himself, he lifted his drink from his table an cradled it comfortably in his hand, her fingers stiff around her glass in contrast. She turned to him when he stopped walking, grinning.

"So was Marilyn," She said, and he nodded. She lifted her drink politely, as if preparing to take a sit, but dropped it again, and Derek watched her with an air of calculation. Despite what he hoped –what he _knew_- the rest of tonight would entail, he felt a shred of uncertainty as she refused to take the drink he'd offered. And yet, he couldn't blame her for her decision either, considering that to her, the purpose of tonight was still open to question. Smart girl.

"Yes," He said almost patronizingly, and Karen eyed him. "But no one would have hired Marilyn to play Marilyn at the beginning." And as he watched, she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head coquettishly and smirking.

"Well, that would have been their mistake," She pursed her lips just slightly, smile stretching to her eyes, which were alive with indignation. Her voice was soft, but self-assured and strong in the silence. "Wouldn't it?"

She tipped her head as she spoke, eyebrows raised skeptically, and Derek smirked with delight at her words. And there was the woman they were looking for; if she wasn't so bloody nervous, she could use that kind of attitude to her advantage. She was so much deeper then they had seen at the audition, so much more then any of them would have guessed, and it delighted him. He so greatly preferred an intelligent woman, in both of the aspects of his life. When it came down to both work and personal endeavors, he would much rather deal with someone of greater then minimal intelligence, and that was what he was searching for in Karen. Strength and tenacity, in any capacity, was difficult to corral in rehearsal, but brilliant on stage and in bed. He smirked, nodding once in acknowledgment.

He sucked in a breath, swallowed once, and turned from her with a smile. "Ok," She seemed surprised by his response, her face falling into a more confused expression, and he turned again to cross towards the couch. He was done beating around to bush; he was going to get what he wanted, what he was looking for.

"So you're great looking and your voice is first rate," It was true, almost underrepresenting the truth, but if he was going to be forward he would be direct in all aspects. He was not entirely satisfied yet with Karen's reason for coming, but he still knew that she wasn't quite understanding the situation as he would want her to. But he would change that, swiftly and easily. "But let me be blunt; you come for a private meeting with the director at ten o'clock at night dressed . . ." He stuck out a finger and gestured at her, trailing his gaze down before returning back to her face, and she looked down at herself uncomfortably. Derek's mouth formed a hard line. "Well, Marilyn would never come to a man's house at ten o'clock at night dressed-"

"Well as soon as I got the message-" She interjected, indignant and not comprehending, but he didn't give her time to think.

"Do you even know why you're here?" He asked slowly, fixing her with a stare, and she almost shrugged her shoulders.

"Because you called me," She stated childishly, her youth and innocence truly shining through.

"I called you to give you a chance to work with me privately," He said, doing his best to hint at his reasoning, but she still didn't understand. He smirked and shook his head, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Why?" She asked, she actually _asked_, and Derek laughed openly. He had thought she was naïve, but to this extent? He shook his head and simpered. Her mouth fell open slightly, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"How old are you?" He answered with a question, and her eyebrows rose still higher, unconsciously mimicking the director's expression. She closed her lips slowly.

"Twenty-four," she offered, voice and face expressing her utter confusion, and Derek turned the conversation back to Marilyn. If she wasn't going to take the hint from him, maybe she'd take it for her career.

"Well by the time she was twenty-four, Marilyn had already done 'The Asphalt Jungle' and 'All About Eve'," Derek point out doggedly, and Karen nodded once, her expression still bewildered. Coyly, he continued, "Maybe, you should care a little less about why and a little more about catching up-" As he spoke, her face dropped into a look of embarrassment, and she followed him around into the living room as he collapsed onto the couch. Ever polite, she sat delicately on the armrest of a chair, and shifted her glass from hand to hand.

"No I do, I do," She assured him, mistaking his skeptical words for his indignation at her her focus towards Marilyn, rather then her focus on him. But maybe that was for the best. Maybe that would bring her around. "I was working on my audition tonight." The way she spoke caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand, and now he smiled again. Yes, _this_ is what he had been looking for. He lounged against the back of the couch.

"Ok, what were you doing?" Her eyes widened in shock at his question, as if she had not expected him to ask, and her cheeks flushed a beautifully delicate pink. She shifted again, setting down her still full glass next to his.

"My boyfriend was helping me understand her," A boyfriend! There was an unexpected twist, though he should have seen it coming. A woman like her, he would be shocked if the men weren't falling over themselves like dogs. But he restrained his thoughts. Give her a few more years in this business, and any notion of a relationship will be gone.

"And how was that?" He asked with a condescending smile, and Karen's cheeks grew even brighter. He could feel the embarrassment and uncertainty leaking from her, and he eyes grew wide and slightly terrified.

"How was it?" She asked, not totally able to form a response, and he changed his tactic slightly, keeping her off balance. Her sense of control was slipping, and he could see it in her face as she bit her lip slightly. She knew she was wading into uncertain and -coincidentally- dangerous waters.

"Yes, what was he doing to help you . . ." He flicked his gaze to the coffee table and back to her, eyebrows raised, and he could tell she knew he was toying with her. She let out a nervous, breathy laugh, but he did not react. "Understand."

"We were doing 'Some Like It Hot'," She said after a rather long pause, sitting up a little straighter and pushing her shoulders back. Unconciously, her voice was stronger in her defiance, and in that moment he made his move. Equally defiant, equally strong. Unyielding; if he didn't push her, they were going to he sitting like this for hours, her dancing and fluttering around him, just out of reach.

He nodded at her response, leaning forward to grab his drink and leaning back as he sipped it. "Ok, let's take a look," Though he couldn't see her face, those dark brown eyes were wide as he returned to his former position, a small, uncertain smile pulling at her lips, and she laughed again, though more openly. He chuckled to himself; she really thought it was a joke. Or maybe in her uncertainty, she was simply desperate for a way out.

"You want to see it right now-" She asked incredulously, eyebrows flying upward, but he cut her off before she could finish, before she could begin to question. He had her now; like a rat in a trap, or better yet, like a bird in a cage.

"Darling," He said warmly, and she stopped. "I need to see everything you've got." And then she understood, her pupils dilating and her face stunned as she finally understood. And maybe it was the sensual undertone of him words, and maybe she had finally just wrapped her mind around the purpose of her visit, but she sucked in a sharp breath.

And with it, she seemed to retreat into herself, shoulders unconsciously hunching forward, head turning away from him and eyelashes fluttering. He watched as plethora of emotions flickered across her features, from aghast to affronted to true fear, and she stared at him with open disbelief. But he ignored her, and finished with one last jab. He hated being so forthcoming about the fact, and most experienced actresses had learned it long ago, but with her degree of naiveté he was going to have to educate her sometime. The road to stardom, she would quickly learn, was far less shinny and clean then she had thought.

"Oh, and enough of the scared bird routine," He sat forward and placed his drink down. "It's a starting place, but it only got Marilyn so far. Come on," And there it was; if she didn't understand him by now, she was a lost cause. Despite her aptitude and talent, working with Derek Wills meant many different things for his stars. It was not his fault that she was only just learning that. She starred at him, very literally open mouth, and he motioned her with his fingers. One last push should do it. "Come on!" He repeated forcefully, and she turned her head away from him.

"Excuse me," She whispered, her voice breathy and petrified, and she pushed herself to her feet. Not sparing him a second glance, she headed for the door, even her posture overcome with confusion as she crossed his living room. Snatching up her things with an angry yet bewildered flourish, she stopped before the alcove to his bathroom, and Derek felt the smallest bit of guilt seep into his consciousness.

She was so young after all; she was almost fragile in nature. Though he could see the strength inside her when it reared its head, her outer shell was easily broken. Unlike Ivy however -whose shield was already fracture to reveal the unstable, molten liquid beneath- Karen's core was iron strong, and it was tapping into that in which he saw her greatest potential. Oh course he _wanted_ to sleep with her, but it was the wanting that let that strand of guilt nibble at him, as he had to acknowledge to himself that it wasn't needed. It wasn't necessary.

But then, with a start that shook him out of his thoughts, she turned, shoes snapping across the wood as she clicked down the hall to the bathroom. For a moment, Derek was apathetic, but as the door slammed shut, and broad smile stretched across his face. The smile of the predator, pinning its prey.

And she was indeed gorgeous, as he had so correctly supposed. All legs below the hem of his dress shirt, all breasts above the collar, her hair spilling out across her shoulders and framing her face in the loveliest possible way. And Derek couldn't help but smile as he took her in with a tilted gaze, letting out a small chuckle of pleasure as she sauntered toward him, even her gate slow and sultry. The dress shirt, now that really was a surprise. An unexpected twist in the plot, if a wonderful one.

Her lips parted slowly, eyes not breaking contact with his, steps not slowing as she neared the couch, and he smirked as the song escaped in a breath of air. Oh, she was good alright. Very clever, and she knew her Marilyn. Derek could hear it in the vibrato, but even more so, he could see it in her face, in her features as she crossed the room. And though it was there, though it was plain to see, it didn't overtake the pure Miss Cartwright of the moment for even a second. She smiled a soft, coy smile.

And as she straddled him, his smile pulled even wider, his hands still lounging against the back of the couch but aching, itching to wrap themselves around her body. She was so close, her breath just tickling his scruff, eyes still boring into his, and she reached her hands down as she leaned into him. And he was loosing his focus, his confident control slipping away as her lips neared his, her sweet fragrance overwhelming him, and his fingers twitched involuntarily.

That confidence, that strength that he had thought of just moments ago seemed to seep from her, warming her body to his touch as her thighs dug into his, and he took a deep involuntary breath as the song reached its crescendo. And now he sat forward to meet her, his body no longer containing itself, his need for her demanding as she breathed the last note. And he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she had him under her thumb, wrapped around her finger and tied tightly. There was no escaping it; her allure was empowering, her smile intoxicating, and he leaned up to meet her as she wrapped her fingers around the collar of his shirt-

And she was gone, slipping sideways and off his lap, falling onto the couch beside him. And for a moment he was tempted to follow her, his lips still seeking hers, but her hands on his chest held him away roughly. He felt any tension that her performance had created melt away, and his chest was left feeling empty and hallow. Starring at him with an empty gaze, eyes no longer containing any of the desire they had held, she opened her mouth and spoke in a monotone voice.

"Not gonna happen," She may as well have slapped him across the face, and certainly her shove was not repressed as she pushed herself to her feet. Steps loud and frank, arms swinging loosely at her sides, her previous gate seemed all but unreal as she crossed his house for the final time and entered his bathroom. He watched her go, eyes no leaving until they were forced to as she rounded to corner, and pushed himself to his feet once to door was closed. Walking leisurely across his home, hands stuffed in his pockets, he took the stairs two at a time until he collapsed into a sitting position on his bed.

There he sat, waiting, until he heard the telltale click of the closing door, and he let out a deep breath. Pulling himself into a standing position, he crossed his bedroom to the bathroom, flicking on the shower and turning the dial to cold as he starred at his dark, hagarred face in the mirror. Part of him was angry, part of him was disappointed –of course-, but most of him was filled with confusion. And yet a small bit of him, small enough that he could successfully burry it beneath his other emotion, was undoubtedly impressed. He sighed again, and rubbed his palms into his eyes.

And of course she had to go and be brilliant at the callbacks, one day not nearly being enough for him to recover from the event, what with that cherry patterned dress sending shivers up his spine. It took almost all his effort to look unaffected, apathetic, and he ran his hand through his hair persistently when no one was looking. Oh, he was most certainly going to keep an eye on that one.

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**So there it was! Karen's companion chapter will be along very shortly, have no fear! I'm going to try my best to post them around similar times, but if they're all as long as this one, I hope I have a lot of free time! Please review if you enjoyed it or have any recommendations for things to fix, I am completely open. Oh, and has everyone seen the picture of the two of them from the filming of season two? It's all over Tumblr, and it's SO GREAT! That forehead kiss is just beyond cute, and it's probably quadrupled my excitement for next season! Thank you for reading!**


	2. The Pilot: Karen

**Chapter two! Hello lovely readers, so very sorry for the incredible delay! Like actually kind of unacceptably long delay . . . please forgive me! I know I promised to try and upload the two companion chapters at around the same time, and I will most definitely try to do that in the future. I've just gotten super busy in the last couple weeks, and haven't had any time to write. But here it is! Finally! A million, billion, gazillion thanks for all the wonderful feedback on the first chapter; every single one of you is absolutely fabulous.**

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The Pilot:

Karen beamed, practically sling-shotting out of her chair as her name was called. The tension in the waiting room was almost palpable, nearly thick enough to cut, and she didn't know how much longer her positive attitude could sustain itself. Though she knew she should have outgrown it, the pure joy of an audition itself still sent her heart racing. She had experience the trials and tribulations of such a process many times before, along with the deep set pain of rejection, but she knew she was too novel for reality to have taken root yet. The woman surrounding her, with their bitter, dolled-up persona, made her nervous, not just for the moment, but for her future. She was perfectly aware of her own inadequacy, but she couldn't let that be who she became.

And maybe this sudden ambition was just a product of this opportunity, but she couldn't help it; she liked Marilyn. She liked who she has, she liked who she had been, and it would be a dream to get to embody even a fraction of the icon she was. It was a long shot, most definitely a very unrealistic fantasy, but something told her today was her day. Maybe, just maybe, today was her break; today would be different.

"Hi!" She bubbled as she paced into the room, casting a quick glance over the occupants of the table. A redheaded woman and a thin face brunette; that was easy, she knew them by reputation, Julia Houston and Tom Levitt. A young, curly haired boy she didn't recognize, an austere, severely cheek-boned older woman who could only be Eileen Rand, and at the end, her breath caught only slightly.

Derek Wills, the man himself, the legend, relaxing into his chair with arms crossed over his chest. Hair defying all odds, a faint smirk pulling as his cheek, his eyes were dark and glinting as they watched her cross the room. Almost instantaneously, he dominated the room, presence commanding and manipulating without a word. She could feel his control like a fist, grip iron and solid, both intimidating and almost satisfying, all at once. And yet, though she could sense it, it was almost as if the feeling didn't affect her. Sure, he was threateningly subtle in his own way, she felt a sort of detachment from his aura. Hopefully, that was a good thing, as his gaze continued to trace her steps as she traced across the makeshift stage.

"Hello Karen," The director spoke, the inflection of his words unreadable, and she smiled politely at the foursome as she handed her music to the pianist. The other three, smiles much kinder and less . . . lascivious then their counterpart, seemed to set her at ease, and she felt her heart rate begin a slow decent. She was calm, collected, and controlled. She could do this.

"How refreshing," As she watched, slipping her coat from her shoulders, Tom let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. Karen felt confusion overwhelm her, but let the smile continue to sit on her lips. She looked up and down the row, unsure of what he meant, and he seemed to pity her. Part of her bristled, but she remained positive, eyes still sparkling, She could tell he was baiting her, making fun of her, and she wasn't going to have it. She was simply excited to be here, and she dropped her bag next to her coat.

"You're the only girl we've seen today who didn't come as Marilyn," He explained politely, an air of painful patience in his words, and Karen breathed a reply of accent. Sure, he was goading her, but she shouldn't read too much into it. It wasn't like it particularly mattered in any case, and what kind of professional flirted with his clients? Or his auditonees, for that matter? A kind of man she wasn't interested in, especially not now. She had Dev, and that was all she needed. She smiled, the thought filling her with warmth, and she beamed. Think of love.

"What do you have for us?" He suddenly asked, not letting the others interject a word, and Karen pulled nervously at the end of her blouse as she gestured to the piano. The familiar melody filled the air, and she blinked slowly, taking a deep breath and letting the air glide up from her lungs in one fowl swoop.

More than any part of the audition process, she had thought about this song for much longer then entirely necessary. So far, the lack of costume had come as a surprising bonus, at least to one fourth of the room's occupants, and hopeful _Beautiful_ would follow the same trend. The former, she thought, being a happy accident, and the later a calculated choice. She didn't want to be the Marilyn everyone else wanted her to be. Sure, she needed to be what the four of them wanted from her, but some deep, unnatural part of her wanted to be something more. Marilyn was always evolving, always changing, and she was so much more complex then anyone would have, or would ever, imagine.

_Every day, _she sang, _is so wonderful. And suddenly, it's hard to breath_. Unconsciously, she noticed as each of them seemed to lean forward, gaze intrigued, attention focused, and she quelled her excitement as she continued. It wouldn't do to overwhelm herself, especially not now.

_Now and then,_ her voice swelled, and she began to lose herself, _I get insecure. From all the pain, I'm so ashamed. _She beamed and closed her eyes for a long moment, wrapping her arms across her chest and resting a hand on her abdomen. Clearly, she felt the swell in her chest, and unconsciously fixed her gaze on the director before her. Eyes unseeing, her surroundings began to fade a morph, the lights dimming and replaced by a deep reddish glow. Think of love.

She loved that line of the songs. All the insecurities, all the pressure, all the stress of stardom, wrapped easily and portraying countless young actresses besides the one she needed to embody. The anguish of the state Marilyn found herself in, the unwarranted shame felt in such public defeat and display of insecurity, seemed almost too much to fathom, and if anything it highlighted everything that stardom meant. The open confidence that only an actress could pull off, while her inner self held up entirely differently. Karen felt some kind of emotion swell within her, and when she blinked, Dev was seated in front of her, beaming.

He smiled, eyes crinkling, expression almost abashed, and his eyes glinted with delight as he watched her. Body relaxed in his chair, his hands clasped in his lap, he smirked in that quintessentially Dev way, and Karen felt herself blush faintly as she sang. The song continued to expand, grow, swell and dip, and Karen felt her mouth pulled into a full out beam.

_We are beautiful, _she belted, all inhibitions shed, and she swayed slightly,_ in every single way. Yes words can't, bring us down. _Her voice swelled still more, moving minutely to her imagined beat, and she raised an arm above her head. Fingers twisting ever so slightly, she belted her last phrase, eyes still closed. Faintly, somewhere behind her, the piano tickled and dropped out and she opened her eyes to gaze along the row of chairs. Heads craned forward, smiles on each face, Derek Wills rested his elbows on the table as his gaze fixed on hers intently. She smiled as the last words drifted out, filling the almost unnerving silence, and she let her slight daze break as the last word disappeared.

For the longest moment, she stood there watching the four of them watch her, and she felt a sense of happiness settle in her stomach. Of all the gazes trained at her, she found her eyes resting on that of the director. Still as dark and shaded as it had been, the smile on his lips seemed now to fully reach his eyes, and they twinkled with a kind of delight. Unsure of how to react as the silence stretched on, she nodded her head once, beaming, collected her things and practically skipped through the door. Maybe, she thought as she left the building, happiness barely able to be contained. Just maybe.

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"I didn't think you'd make it."

Karen felt herself blush at his rather underhanded barb, and she smiled an embarrassed smile as she slipped off her jacket. In the dim light of his apartment, part of her hoped he couldn't see, but his decided pleasure at her slight awkwardness rectified that. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, highlighting his features, and she dangled her bag and coat uncertainly from one hand as she faced him. She did her best to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and glinting with a kind of delighted interest she couldn't quite place, and he scanned her once before reaching for her coat.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry," She apologized quickly, instantly badgering herself for sounding childish, but offering an excuse nonetheless. She had only just gotten the text, even if she had been busy with . . . other activities. Involuntarily, she felt her blush deepen, and she swiftly let him take her things to cover. "I just got the text twenty minutes ago, so . . ."

Her voice trailed off, waiting for him to respond, but he offered nothing. When she met his gaze again, almost distractedly, his eyes glinted with amusement as though they were sharing a kind of private joke. Somehow or another, she didn't catch on, and he opened his mouth and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Ok," No apologies, no excuses from him, and he raised an eyebrow only slightly as he glanced down at her coat. Rather abruptly, he tossed it onto the chair beside him, stalking off across the dark wood floor, and Karen placed her bag down nervously. His gate was lanky, relaxed and self-assured, and she almost felt small and shuffling as she trailed in his wake. But she pushed her shoulders back, glancing around the large open space, and trying not to appear wide eyed.

"The place is a mess, sorry," He offered distractedly, disappearing into the kitchen as Karen continued after him across the apartment. She left out a soft chuckle at his words, face openly incredulous, and shook her head. Furniture and stairs clear of even traces of dust, not a scratch on the dark cherry floors that seemed to shine like new, the gigantic windows portraying the best view she had seen in years, she would most definitely not classify any of this as anything less than up to par. He should see the state of her tiny flat.

"Oh no, it's beautiful," She offered in a childishly wondering voice, the words slipping out before she could stop herself and she strode across to the kitchen as she continued to survey the space. Glazing over her comment without acknowledgment, he reached for one of the cabinets and pulled it open with the faintest of flourishes.

"My schedule's turned into a bit of a nightmare," He continued, pulling a single glass from the shelf and setting it down on the counter with an unceremonious clink. She watched him work with polite curiosity, eyes still roaming the room, and felt a faint smile pull at her lips. She was with Derek Wills, _in his home_, summoned by him for a chance to work with him privately. He, Derek Wills himself, was interested in _her_. She was nobody; she had done nothing! And yet, he must see something in her, if he was willing to take the time to offer her some advice. He wanted to see more, and if that didn't solidify the apparent interest of the play's production team, she wasn't sure what else did. She felt herself bubble slight with excitement, and watched him as he crossed to the fridge.

"Lionsgate wanted to get me on a plane at eight o'clock in the morning," He continued, giving her no time to intervene, and as she turned from her surveying of the room she found his eyes already locked on hers, gaze disconcertingly observant. She rested her hands uncertainly on the marble counter top, and her expression fall into a more apologetic smile. "Then I have to turn around and get myself back for the callbacks on Friday."

"Well, I really appreciate you taking the time," She offered as she watched him fill the glass with ice, and he straightened and crossed to stand beside her at the counter. The look on his face, the smile that flickered in his eyes at her words was more then slightly unsettling, as yet again he seemed determine to be laughing with her though she didn't understand the joke. She simply smiled, keeping her expression calm and polite, and quelled the flustered feelings of uncertainty that began to nag at her.

"Look, obviously we're very serious about you for this," He inserted abruptly, and she marked her rather unsettled state down to nerves and his disconcerting speed of conversation. Without acknowledging her words, without giving her a chance to speak, he changed tacks instantly as he reached for the bottle of expensive scotch across from the pair of them. Turning to her with an almost roguish smile, her twisted the cap and poured. "I thought it was terrific the way you came in without doing her."

Karen felt herself flush, mouth falling open as if to offer thanks for his compliment, but his words cut her off before she could continue. Increasingly disconcerted and yet mesmerized by his domination of the exchange, she smiled and giggled slightly nervously. Unconsciously, her fingers twitched with nervous energy, and she watched him pour the drink with slight confusion. Somehow, his words made her feel both confident and unsettled.

"It won't get you past the next round," He almost chastised, and Karen felt her smile thinning in her confusion. "But I thought it was hilarious." Hilarious? Unconsciously, her blush deepened, and she tried her best not to give herself away. Hilarity was, most definitely, not what she had intended to span from her uncommon naiveté, but maybe her mistake really had been for the best. As Dev had encouraged, and as her current situation proved, her talent had shone through, and with the added bonus of obviously providing some humor. Unsure of whether she should feel more or less confident through his perhaps unintentional insult, her situation was made far worse as he practically shoved the glass of alcohol into her hands.

Confidence and uncertainty now equally mixed, she opened her mouth in preparation to protest his rather presumptuous actions. No matter how kind it was of him to offer, and no matter how discomfortingly expensive the liquid smelled, drinking at a private business venture was rather more . . . relaxed then she might have expected. Maybe that was the way of theater people, but it was something she wasn't entirely comfortable with. At least not just yet.

She held the glass politely after sniffing it, mouth still hanging open as she sucked in a breath to speak, but yet again he gave her no time to form a response. Within seconds, he had changed topics again, and she could barely keep up with her own thoughts as he pushed a piece of paper towards her.

"You're resume's light," He continued as he strode past her and into the living room, and she felt her eyes light up in understanding as he spoke. Letting out a small laugh in her sudden comprehension, she tried her best to remain professional as she followed him towards the dining room table.

"Oh, it's the resume," She spoke over her laugh. "People kept saying light, I didn't know what light meant." She laughed at herself yet again, watching as the director leaned over to grab his own glass, and feeling a sense of relief when he cradled his between his fingers. Less odd, she assumed, if both of us are drinking, right?

"It means you're a bit green," He offered with a more then faintly patronizing smile, but she took it for what it was. She knew she was wide-eyed and innocent, she had seen that in producers' condescending gazes for years now, but she also knew that people yearned for something fresh. And in all honesty, in the position that they were, Derek Wills was not the most intimidating persona she had faced, and she was confident she could impress him. At least, she hoped his laugher was somewhat with hers, and not pointed directly at her.

Bolstered in her confidence by his unintentional comment, she continued to twist her cup nervously in her fingers and release some of the tension. The director was being rather sweet, of all things, and she should use this learning opportunity to the best of her ability. I, she reminded herself firmly, am simply excited to be here. I'm not asking him for any of this, I have to rise to the occasion.

"So was Marilyn," Karen offered after a moment of though, and, unsurprisingly, he bit back a retort before she had time to think.

"Yes," He said, his voice still condescending, and Karen could feel herself eyeing him almost skeptically. Of course she was intimidated, but she couldn't let it show. She needed to play her part. "But no one would have hired Marilyn to play Marilyn at the beginning."

"Well," She began, smiling coquettishly and simpering only slightly, she raised her eyebrows and played distractedly with her glass. "That would've been their mistake, wouldn't it?"

And something in his seemed to light up, a faint brightness sparkling in his eyes, and Karen felt her stomach jump with pride at his apparent satisfaction. His smile widened slightly, slipping from demeaning to slightly appreciative, and his gaze scoured her features as his eyebrows rose. His face reflecting a rather happily surprised expression, she let her confidence continue to swell as she waited for his response. There was a moment of silence, and he began to turn away from her with a frighteningly large smile.

"Ok," He offered nothing else, and Karen's face unconsciously dropped in her surprise. He had obviously taken her remark for something, but refused to had over any control of the situation to her, no matter how small. He was playing a very clever game, as she was quickly catching on to believe, and though she didn't understand it, she hoped she was playing up to his standards. The couching session, she realized, had already begun.

"So you're great looking and your voice is first rate," Now that startled her, jostling her mind out of it's momentarily unperturbed state, and she let her brow furrow only slightly as she followed him across to stand behind the couch. When he turned back to her, the director had dropped his smile, though his eyes still held the same kind of delighted energy, and Karen did her best to keep a stoic expression. She could play the unconcerned card as well as he could, and though being forthright had so far garnered positive results, his tone suggested that wasn't all he was looking for. She made the best attempt at apathy she could muster, but all in all Derek Wills seemed rather bored. Irritated even, as if the conversation pained him. Nervous and uncertain, she met his gaze timidly.

"But let me be blunt," Karen swallowed once, unconsciously straightening her back, and one of his eyebrows quirked slightly. "You come for a private meeting with the director at ten o'clock at night dressed . . ." He stuck out his fingers and gestured up and down, his expression displeased and almost exasperated, and Karen couldn't help but flush in embarrassment. Unsure of his feelings and why she suddenly felt ashamed, she looked down at herself uncertainly and pulled at the bottom of her shirt with her free hand.

"Well," Derek continued, voice slightly skeptical, and he gave her a disparaging glance. Wherever this sudden displeasure was coming from, Karen was unsure of how to react, and exactly what to make of it. She understood from news sources that Derek Wills was not a pleasant man, but why would he have invited her to his home to simply ridicule her? "Marilyn would never come to a man's house at ten o'clock at night dressed-"

"Well as soon as I got your message-" Karen interjected, any attempt at apathy failed, and she felt her forehead involuntarily in her confusion. Eyes wide and uncertain, she had had enough of Derek's domination over their exchange, and it was time she asserted herself. If that was not what he was looking for, then they would never work well together. But even as she tried to muster some courage, he would not spare her a moment to think.

"Do you even know why you're here?" He asked bluntly, affectively cutting her off, and she squared her shoulders slightly.

"Because you called me," She responded, obviously. Why else would she be in his apartment if not for the reasons he had asked her there?

"I called you to give you a chance to work with me privately," She obviously registered the infliction in his voice, but the tone was unrecognizable, and left her even more confused. From his expression, it was obvious that this was not what he had hoped for, but what was he supposed to expect? What was this underlying meaning that he seemed determined to make her acknowledge or, in the very least, understand?

"Why?" She asked, shrugging, and his eyes widened even more then they already had. Mouth yet again falling into a rather incredulous smile, he shifted his weight and looked at her, studying her. He shook his head very slightly, simpering, and Karen felt herself suck in an involuntary breath

"How old are you?" He asked, not answering her question, and she shook her head ever so slightly. He laughed under his breath, actually laughed at her this time, and his eyes sparkled yet again. Where was any of this actually going?

"Twenty-four," She offered in response, uncomprehending, and he seemed to switch tactics yet again. Something in him shifted, and he moved half a step closer to her. She did her best not to shift back.

"Well, by the time she was twenty-four, Marilyn had already done 'The Asphalt Jungle' and All About Eve'," The director said pointedly, and Karen felt her resolve falter. Quickly, almost instantly, she was backtracking, shying away from the more confident bluster of several minutes before and letting her gaze fall as he moved past her. "Maybe, you should care a little less about why and a little more about catching up-"

"No, I do, I do," And she did, she needed to make sure he understood that. Even with her innocence in the world of theater and her state of incomprehension at the reason for her visit, she still cared very much about the part. She was focused on Marilyn, she promised that she was, and despite her indignation in her previous words, she cared about Marilyn. "I was working on my audition tonight, actually."

The minute she said it, she regretted it, though she wasn't sure why, and she watched as he took a seat on the couch. Lounging with his arms across the back, he eyed her from a distant, and she did her best to politely rest of the arm of a chair, not wanting to seem too at ease. The way he was looking at her cause her heart to beat more quickly in her chest, though in a less then pleasant way. She still could not see the end of this conversation. He was doing a good job toying with her, his words causing her to question herself at every turn, but she held her ground. She still wasn't sure what he wanted from her, and that –she was quickly realizing- might be a dangerous place to be. Though she didn't know why, she continued to feel nervous.

"Ok, what were you doing?" He asked abruptly, barely letting her finish, and she felt shock run through her like a tremor. Well, she should have expected it, of all things, but she still felt a thrill of embarrassment. They were both adults, and this was a thing that adults did. It shouldn't be so difficult to talk about, and yet there was something off putting about discussing it with her hopefully soon-to-be director.

"My boyfriend was helping he understand her," She said slowly, after a long moment, and she watched as a demeaning smile set in. She swallowed once, and glanced down at the drink still cradled in her hand. She set it on the table carefully and watched his reaction to her words.

"And how was that?" He preened, and Karen felt a blush bloom across her cheeks. Had he really just asked that? And he was treating her like she was naïve. Whatever he was playing at, she still wasn't catching on, and he had to be joking, right?

When he didn't continue, Karen opened her mouth slowly and looked at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. "How was it?" She asked, refusing to answer him directly, but the same flustered feeling she had had upon entering his house had returned. What did he want to know for? And more importantly, what was she really doing here in the first place?

"Yes, what was he doing to help you . . . understand?" Karen swallowed once, straightening her back for the third time that night, and trying her best not to look as confused as she felt. A nervous smile spread across her lips, brought on by her increasing discomfort, and she blinked slightly bashfully before succumbing.

"We were doing 'Some Like It Hot'," She said, as boldly as she could and with as much bravado as she could muster. But he didn't seem fazed, nodding his head and sitting forward to grab his glass with a kind of expectancy. Karen watched him move, still wearing a smile, and he shifted slightly as he sipped the dark liquid.

"Ok, let's take a look," And she laughed openly at this, perhaps because she thought it was a joke, perhaps to cover the pit forming in the pit of her stomach. But she giggled despite herself, taking in his patient expression and raising her eyebrows, but Derek Wills did not smile back.

"You want to see it right now-" She asked, more incredulous then she had been all night, but in the back of her mind she could feel a realization dawning, something her mind was desperately trying to fight to be recognized.

"Darling," He interrupted her a final time and leaned back against the sofa. "I need to see everything you've got."

And the reality of the situation hit her, the realization like a punch to the stomach. She let her mouth fall open for the umpteenth time, air not coming in or out, and she felt a choking sensation in her throat as she finally understood why she was here. Any resolve she'd had about his appreciation of her potential was scattered to the wind, and she felt raw and empty as his gaze turned more and more indifferent. He didn't care about her, he didn't care about her career or Marilyn, all he cared about was his assumption that she would-

She felt sick, violated and injured without him having touched her, his frankness like a hand on her throat, like a knife in her back. She felt betrayed and wronged and hurt beyond belief, but overall overwhelmingly terrified and alone. Any feelings she'd had before, any ideas of what tonight might entail, were forced to a crashing halt, and she dropped all pretenses of how he might want her to act. She could feel the cold hostility of the apartment now pressing in on her chest, constricting, and the confident, self-assured glint in his eyes did nothing to dissuade that. He wanted her too- . . . He was asking her too- . . . She couldn't believe it, her entire body rejecting the very idea, and she couldn't find any words. But of course, he could.

"Oh and enough of the scared bird routine," He continued without sparing her a second glance, and raised his drink to his lips. "It's a starting place, but it only got Marilyn so far. Come on," His forwardness was sickening, his frank tone frightening, and she watched disbelieving as he down his drink. Continuing to find no words, she looked around, half expecting the answer –her escape- to fall from nowhere, but nothing came. Instead, he set down his glass and looked at her, expectantly. "Come on."

He practically bellowed, his voice demanding, and she felt herself flinch involuntarily. Pupils dilated and breath shaky, she did her best to close her lips as air escaped in a shaky gasp. Muttering an 'excuse me' as politely as she possibly could, she swept out of her seat and away from him, striding quickly across the floor and not sparing a glance as she scooped up her things. Pausing before the bathroom doorway, she knew it wasn't right, she knew it wasn't fair, and she knew it wasn't okay, but she also knew that leaving would more than assure her loss of the part.

But what could she do? She loved theater and she loved Marilyn, but more importantly she loved Dev, and she hated Derek Wills. Well, the last one was still open for debate, as it was yet to be seen, but she felt a sickening pounding in her chest as her heart rate beat through the roof. Tears poked at her eyes, hot and stinging, burning in her head, and her vision blurred and distorted as she starred towards the door. She didn't want to do it, her body repelled _him_ with every fiber of it's being, but somewhere deep down inside her, she knew she had to do it. She shouldn't, but she needed too, and that was what he hated Derek Wills for. She hated him for the sultry smile she could feel as she turned into the bathroom.

But it wasn't over yet; that confidence she had felt earlier yet again rearing its head, she knew that somewhere along the way, Derek Wills had made an error. A fatal error in fact, and one that could not be rectified. He had put the power in her fingers, he had handed her the controls, and mistakenly or not, he had miscalculated. Because he didn't know Karen, as he more then obviously thought he did, and if it was up to her, he was going to get a rather rude awakening. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she grabbed his dress shirt off the hanger and began to undress. Through her torrent of anger, she felt a smile flicker across her lips. This was going to be fun.

And yet, even though she knew she shouldn't, she felt a strange sense of happiness as she walked toward him, body bare but for her underwear and him button down. She felt _powerful_, as she cooed her best Marilyn, and wrapped her fingers into his sleeves, his gaze fixated and unwavering as she sauntered forward. The look in his eyes, the kind of hunger, was nauseating, but the fact that it overpowered his confidence made her smile all the more sultry. She felt in control, for the first time that night, and she smiled almost to herself as she inched closer. A fatal flaw indeed.

And when she straddled him, when her eyes locked with his, when she could see his fingers twitching where they lounged against the back of the couch, she knew she had him. And it was surprising to her, if pleasing, to be comfortable in her sexuality, to know that this man –_the _Derek Wills of all people- wanted her, even for all the wrong reasons. It was almost invigorating. She felt strong, dominant, and above all self-assured as she leaned into him. She could see his reaction, she could sense it, and when he stretched forward to meet her lips, she knew he felt that dominance. But he didn't care, because he though he had what he wanted, and Karen almost laughed under her breath as the song came to a close.

She rolled away from him, easily and swiftly, as though it were the most effortless thing in the world. Which in all honesty, it might have been, but it made her glow with pride to see his lips pursed, his head turning sideways and body pushing forward. Hands still on his chest, she held him away with a faint shove, and his eyes seemed to snap out of a daze. For a moment, he strained unconsciously against her hold, but she could see the effort it took him to relax as he attempted to lounge back against the couch. She smiled to herself, only slightly, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Not gonna happen," She pushed herself to her feet, not sparing him a glance as she stalked off towards the bathroom again. Her gate purposefully relaxed and unconcerned, she dressed as quickly as she possibly could, folded the shirt and left in on the counter and gathered her things. As she had secretly hoped, he was nowhere in sight, and she slipped on her jacket as she pulled the door shut behind her.

At least he had some concept of decency.

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**So all done! Again, super sorry about the late update, I am going to try to update as regularly as I possibly can, I've just had a crazy August and now I'm getting back into school and all that jazz. Well stay tuned please, if you enjoyed it, and I will be back with episode two!**


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